Page 27 of Phoenix's Rising
"Good." Phoenix closes the door behind him and leans against it, the same position he took this morning. "I'm sorry I haven't been up sooner. We've been setting up defenses and trying to anticipate every possible scenario."
"It's okay. I understand."
"You showered."
It's not a question, just an observation. I nod.
"Feel better?"
"A little. Cleaner, at least." I pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. "How are things downstairs? With the preparations?"
"As ready as we can be." Phoenix runs a hand through his hair. "We've got cameras on every approach, defensive positions mapped, escape routes planned. Brick and Ranger have it down to a science. Now we just wait."
I want to ask if he's thought about the kiss. Want to know if it meant anything or if it was just a moment of weakness, a brief lapse before reality reasserted itself.
But I can't find the words. Can't figure out how to ask without sounding desperate or pathetic or like I'm reading too much into something that was probably meaningless to him.
"About this morning," Phoenix says, and my heart stops.
Here it comes. The apology. The explanation that it was a mistake, that he got caught up in the moment, that it can't happen again.
"I shouldn't have kissed you," he continues, and I feel something crack in my chest. "The timing was wrong. You're vulnerable. I'm supposed to be protecting you, not—"
"Not what?" I interrupt, surprising myself with the edge in my voice. "Not treating me like a person who can make her own decisions? Not acknowledging that maybe I wanted it too?"
Phoenix looks startled. "Ivy—"
"You keep apologizing for treating me with respect," I say, the words tumbling out faster now. "For asking my opinion, for giving me choices, for kissing me like you actually wanted toinstead of like you were taking something I didn't offer. Do you know how rare that is? Do you know how long it's been since someone treated me like my wants mattered?"
I'm standing now, without realizing I moved. Standing and facing him across the small room, adrenaline and frustration making me brave.
"I'm not some delicate thing that's going to break if you acknowledge there's something between us," I continue. "I'm scared and traumatized and probably making terrible decisions, but I'm also an adult who knows her own mind. And I wanted that kiss, Phoenix. Wanted it badly enough that I'm still thinking about it hours later even though there's a war coming and people might die and everything is falling apart."
The confession leaves me breathless, shaking. Phoenix stares at me, his eyes wide with surprise.
"You're right," he says finally. "You're absolutely right. I'm treating you like you're fragile when you're anything but. You ran from the Vipers, drove through the night alone, showed up at a stranger's door with nothing but hope. That's not fragile. That's brave as hell."
He pushes off the door, taking a step toward me.
"I wanted that kiss too," he admits, his voice low. "Have been thinking about it all day. Thinking about you. About how wrong the timing is and how I should keep my distance and how none of that seems to matter when I'm in the same room as you."
My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it.
"The age gap—" he starts.
"I'm twenty-six," I say. "Not eighteen. Not a child. Old enough to know what I want."
"I'm thirty-eight."
"I can do math." I take a step toward him, closing the distance. "Twelve years. That's the gap. And you know what? I don't care. Cole was only eight years older than me and he was a monster. Age doesn't determine character."
"No," Phoenix agrees. "But it does create power imbalances. Experience gaps. You've been through hell, Ivy. I don't want to take advantage of that."
"You're not." I'm close enough now to see the conflict in his eyes, the war between what he wants and what he thinks is right. "You're giving me the choice. That's the difference between you and every other man I've known. You're letting me decide instead of deciding for me."
Phoenix's hand comes up, hovering near my face like he wants to touch me but doesn't quite dare.
"I'm deciding I want this," I whisper. "Whatever this is. Even if the timing is terrible. Even if it doesn't make sense. Even if tomorrow everything goes to hell. Right now, in this moment, I want you."
